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Friday, March 12, 2010

Modern Warfare

My tongue's a saber
Inside a false stiletto heel
My hair has barbs, piranha fangs concealed within each strand
It slices your skin if you go along it in the wrong direction
A blowgun sits just inside my throat
With pouches of toxin close by
My eyes are radar slits
With slowly revolving fields
A mollusk shell shields my emotions
A chain mail plexus lies camouflaged along my body
It's impossible being me
And trying to not wound you-
I sometimes lie to myself, and I tell myself
That I do not care that you are wounded,
That you should have known
That any dealings with me would result
In you're being hurt; you should have expected it
On the worst days, I gash you joyously
To hear you howl and
To see the blood run in rivulets.
But I always cry in the dark
When nobody can see it
And wish that I were more normal;
Surrounded on all sides as I am
By the walking wounded.

About Me

My prayer is what I do all day/
And think, and say/
I am a stream of dark and light/
With breath, I pay/
For suns bright ray/
And starry night.
My dreams are when in sleep I lay/
I fly away/
To find a string of visions bright/
In faith, I stay/
With hope I may/
See truth alight.